


How Many Ticks

by Ettelwyn



Category: The Hunger Games
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-15
Updated: 2010-12-15
Packaged: 2017-10-13 16:43:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/139432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ettelwyn/pseuds/Ettelwyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten years after Katniss is allowed to return to District 12, a psychologist is assigned by the Capitol to evaluate Katniss Everdeen and assess whether she is still a threat. (oneshot)</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Many Ticks

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Written for a prompt of having a chosen character speak to a therapist. Meant to take place _after_ 'Mockingjay', so there are spoilers if you haven't read that yet.
> 
> I could obviously continue this, but that depends if anyone would actually want to read it. Comment, please. ((:

"I'm Doctor Gryfull, pleased to meet you, Katniss." The therapist extended his hand and Katniss was struck how much alike he seemed to Caesar Flickerman, the Capitol reporter.

Numbly, she shook his hand. Unable to contain herself, she asked, "Are you related to Caesar Flickerman?"

The therapist chuckled lightly. "We're brothers. My last name changed when I married." She looked at him in a wide-eyed look, but it slowly faded into an expression more pondering. "Katniss, I'm willing to be as open about my life as you want as long as you'll do the same. It's my personal conviction that a strong connection between a patient and therapist is vital for the success of the patient."

She only gave him a wry smile, sure he was concerned. He was probably only doing this for the money, or worse, snooping and giving information to someone she should have killed. _Except not really, because killing was bad, Katniss. Remember what Peeta said_ , she thought to herself.

Her silence made him speak again. "Are you willing to be open and honest with me?"

She raised her eyes from where they had been focused on the ground and gave him a sardonic look. "Oh, of course. I'll tell you everything in extreme detail. Anything from how I faked being in love to having Rue die in my arms."

There was a prolonged, tightened silence as the therapist gave Katniss a hard, surveying look.

He sighed and resisted the urge to massage his forehead.

It seemed this was going to take some work.

 

The first day—week, even—had not gone well.

By the second week, Katniss had seemed to understand that they were both stuck in a situation they didn't necessarily want to be in.

Doctor Gryfull had never had such an obstinate and rude patient. At times, the girl would fly into a rage, although somewhat subdued, he imagined from what he heard. She would go on about a particular event in horrifying clarity, re-wakening the gross images for the Doctor to see in his eyes and for them both to live that past moment.

Katniss was not a wordsmith, by any means. She was actually rather clumsy with her word choices, something that could be seen as endearing at best and crippling to herself but usually offensive to others. At worst, it was something that could get her in very severe trouble.

Despite this, she retained a wondrous ability to recall a memory and make it seem very real to the Doctor. It wasn't so much in the words she said, but the way she said them.

Of course, there were other times the girl was so upset that she wouldn't speak at all. Rigid with a stony silence and unwilling or maybe even incapable of elaborating on specific events, she was proving to be a very challenging patient.

 

"I told you, Antony, I don't want to talk about the Games." She gave him a deploring look, one he returned in a more baleful manner. Of course, he understood why she wouldn't want to. The Games had changed her life, made her into a killer and destroyed any ounce of trust she might have once had in other people. She was hurt and vengeful. She didn't like people from the Capitol, and Gryfull was proudly a Capitol citizen.

He'd tried to win some of her trust by allowing her to use his first name.  
That, obviously, was not working.

He glanced at the clock for a moment, wondering how long the people in charge were going to extend this session.

"Katniss, I believe I have told you this before: we must keep these sessions going until the people in charge decide you're well enough to be on your own again."

"Just who is in charge?"

"I can't say."

"You mean you can't or that you won't?"

He smiled as a response. Katniss glared.

"Look, Antony… I don't think they'll ever be satisfied that I'm mentally well."

"Negative outlooks won't help you reach any goal. You know that."

She snorted. "Yeah, but being negative has done me well so far. If you don't trust anyone, then you'll live. That's what I've found."

"You consider this to be 'well'?"

She looked at him questioningly.

"Sweetie, you're talking to a therapist for an undetermined amount of time. You are stuck here. The government has full reign of your life, you've been separated from your family for a month, and you consider this all to be 'well'?"

Her fist bunched together the fabric of a pillow and she twisted it slowly, breathing through her nose. _Calm. Keep calm. He's just trying to get to you._ "Do not assume what I'm saying. That's not what I'm saying."

"I know that's not what you're saying. You're just stubborn and don't want to admit that you're afraid of being close to people again. What's the point of living if there isn't any joy in it?"

His bluntness seemed to have caught her off-guard and instead of clamming up like she was wont to, she opened up.

"Funny you should mention that, because I've wondered the same thing a few times."

He processed that quickly, re-assessing his approach. Before he could implement his new strategy, Katniss continued.

"It's… it just seems pointless to me. When I'm living by myself, I know I'm being observed by someone, somewhere, all the time. I'm not even doing anything wrong. I'm just trying to be a good mother and a decent wife." She looked up and gave Antony a small grin. "I'm not so sure I'm good at that, though, because most wives do the baking and let the husbands go hunting."

The doctor chuckled a little.

"And in the middle of that, in the middle of living day to day and wondering if I'm being watched, I wonder if something is going to happen. If they're going to pull me away from home again and tell me what to do every hour of the day and if I'm going to wear horrible Capitol makeup and puke so I can eat everything on the tables or if I'll have to dye my skin green."

She continued on for awhile like this, the doctor noting the signs of stress he had observed in previous sessions. Her words started to trip over the next, entangling themselves in a mess of pent-up frustrations and fears. A single sob broke through a sentence and then she went quiet, bowing her head so that her hair obscured her face.

Doctor Gryluff sat awkwardly in the seat across from her. It wasn't that he hadn't had a patient cry in front of him before. It was more that.. that he didn't want her to cry. He… he felt guilty for instigating this.

He groaned inwardly. Getting attached to the patient.

"Katniss, you can leave if you would like," he said quietly. There was a vague movement of her head that he took to be a nod before she rose quickly and rushed out the door.

And then there was just the hands of his clock ticking too loudly for his likes.


End file.
